


Lazy Sunday

by die_Frau



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, post-coe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 04:26:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13403424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/die_Frau/pseuds/die_Frau
Summary: Just a little something I had in my head, a snippet of sweetness inspired by all of you. I can only aspire to make you all smile and sigh happily as you have done so many times for me.





	Lazy Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the source for Cormoran's A.A. Milne reference:
> 
> Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind.  
> "Pooh!" he whispered.  
> "Yes, Piglet?"  
> "Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw. "I just wanted to be sure of you."

The sun streamed in the window, just touching the couple on the couch. Robin sat turned sideways at one end, poring over a psychology journal with a pen and highlighter, her feet in Strike's lap, which he stroked absently with one hand while he read his own battered copy of an old Val MacDiarmid with the other. As Strike read, a little smile creased his shadowed jaw and he looked fondly over at Robin as she frowned in concentration, making notes as she read. 

"What's going on in that head of yours?" asked Robin inquiringly, poking her head up from her journal as she felt his gaze.

"I've pictured this," said Strike.

"Pictured what?"

"A slow, lazy Sunday. Books. Tea. Your feet in my lap," he said, giving one a gentle squeeze. She smiled back at him, the one that always made him feel lighter inside, that he could do anything, slay any dragon, open any jar.

"When was this?"

"Aren't you full of questions, Miss Ellacott. Highly commended, you are," he teased. She swatted at him with her highlighter. Looking musingly off into space, considering, he replied, "During the Quine case."

Robin's mouth dropped open a bit. "Oh, Cormoran...even then?"

"You'd come in one morning while I was reading one of those shit Quine novels and it just popped into my head for a moment." He shrugged helplessly. "I tried not to, but there was nothing for it."

Robin looked at him with soft eyes, her head tilted to one side in silent sympathy and love. "Did you ever have any other...pictures...in your head?"

"Never let myself, not if I could help it. Not when you were engaged and we'd just begun our partnership. I wasn't going to do anything to make my life more complicated...or yours." Robin scooted closer to him on the couch so she could caress his stubbled cheek, moved by his consideration for her and the tacit acknowledgement that he had thought about her more than just the one time. 

"Even if you _were_ choosing to marry a complete wanker," he added, grinning and turning his head to kiss her palm. She pulled her hand away quickly with a look of mock outrage and swatted at him again. 

"Cormoran Blue _Strike_!"

He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward him for a kiss, thinking she looked more beautiful in her t-shirt and pajama pants, face scrubbed clean of makeup, than she did all done up and her green dress on...the latter being a close second. Robin, on her knees, turned and fell unceremoniously into his lap, her hands sliding to the back of his head to plow through his hair as she pulled him in for a more thorough kiss. Suddenly she pulled away and looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"Are you sure you don't have any others?" 

Strike gave her an open, unguarded look that only Robin ever got to see, content knowing he no longer had to put up any walls with her, that he could trust her more than anyone. It made him think of A. A. Milne that he'd read somewhere as a child.  "I might have one or two that just came to mind, also involving a couch...."

The sunlight continued to move across the floor.


End file.
